


conjuring the moon

by havisham



Category: King Lear - Shakespeare
Genre: Boarding School, Brotherly Love, History Jokes, Late Night Conversations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Edmund smiled brightly. “The history of rat-bastardry is my specialty.”
Relationships: Edgar/Edmund (King Lear)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: RelationShipping 2020





	conjuring the moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellenos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellenos/gifts).



At school, it was widely known that to torment Gloucester Minor was to bring down the fury of Gloucester Major upon one’s head. No one could touch him. No one would dare. Except their father, whose power outstripped all others in their world, save the king only. 

Once, Edgar summoned Edmund up to his rooms after supper. It was a cold winter day and Edmund shivered as he mounted the chill steps to the hallowed rooms of the graduating boys. Edgar was sitting by the fire, reading. 

His face brightened at Edmund’s approach and he beckoned him forward. “Don’t lurk in the shadows, brother dear. I’ve something to show you.” 

Edmund considered that if this was his father, whom Edgar resembled in all ways but one — age — this surprise would be no doubt something sharp and unpleasant for Edmund and amusing to himself. But Edgar was not their father. Not yet. 

And so he crept closer and laid himself on Edgar’s feet. It was a familiar routine for them, stretching back to their youngest days. Edmund did not allow himself to be touched by anyone but Edgar, as if he were a skittish cat. Sometimes he allowed his brother to stroke his hair too, as long as he didn’t remark on it. 

“I know what it is,” Edmund said, his voice soft. He did not boom or growl as his kinsmen did. Edmund whispered and forced others to listen closely to what he said. 

“I would be surprised if you did,” Edgar said. “It is a history lesson. Do you know of William Longespée, 3rd Earl of Salisbury? He was the natural brother of Kings Richard I and John.” 

“Why should I?” Edmund asked flatly. “What does he have to do with me? Unless you mean that one bastard should inspire another, as we’re all the same to you?” 

“Why do you take it so ill?” Edgar stopped stroking Edmund’s hair and ignored his growl. “William was loved by his brothers and married one of the great heiresses of his day, Ela of Salisbury. His children inherited his wife’s earldom. He died satisfied and known, though it was hundreds of years ago.” 

“Was he not poisoned?” 

“So you do know him! Why did you let me prattle on so?” 

“Of course I know him, I pay as much attention to my lessons as you do,” Edmund said patiently. “You know they found a petrified rat in his skull, killed by arsenic?” 

“You would remember the grotesque details first,” Edgar said, wincing.

Edmund smiled brightly. “The history of rat-bastardry is my specialty.” 

Edgar seemed heartened by that smile, though the words should perhaps have given him pause. He reached out and caressed Edmund’s cheek. “I wished to impart to you the assurance that I will surely find an Ela of Salisbury for you. Your blood is as good as mine.” 

Edmund looked away, his expression sad. “I wish you would not say such things to me. No one believes it but you -- no one but you and I, and we are fools because of it.” 

Such was his sadness and sweetness that it melted his brother’s heart, as Edmund knew it would. When they parted, they exchanged kisses upon the cheek and promises that Edmund would follow Edgar out to the world as soon as time allowed. 


End file.
